


The Color Of Death Is Blue

by Kitty (KutieKitty16)



Series: The Color Of [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Assassin!AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-16
Updated: 2018-07-16
Packaged: 2019-06-11 14:58:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 15
Words: 15,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15318012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KutieKitty16/pseuds/Kitty
Summary: The finest assassin in the country-Keith Kogane-and a pitiful boy with a deadly curse-Lance McClain-find themselves together due to an assignment gone awry. Now, with Lance in his custody,  Keith is the target of every hunter in the city-including the biggest and toughest gang: the Galra.**Rated Teen for: graphic depictions of violence and gore, mature language, sexual content**





	1. Prologue: The Son Of Death

The small boy sat on the space-themed bed, hugging his knees and chewing on the tips of his bloody fingers. His whole body violently shook as his lungs struggled for breath. His eyes stared at the wall in shock as his head faded in and out of consciousness. He was both aware and unaware of his own existence. The sheer curtain swayed into the room under the moonlight as the open window let cool, summer wind ventilate the iron smell in the air. Bodies dressed in black littered the floor of his bedroom; their hands gripped on their weapons. Blood freckled his gentle, tan skin and decorated the dull cream walls and shelves of various figurines and trophies. His body convulsed and his head jerked slightly along with the rough movement of his spine. Footsteps carefully approached his door and it slowly creaked open, causing a ray of light to flood into the dark room. His gaze was suddenly broken when a voice sounded from the doorframe.

"Lance?"

A woman with a British accent and beautiful pale white hair cautiously leaned against the doorframe as her fingertips reached for the wood of the plain door, pushing it open. In the light that shone behind her, the boy could make out the graceful tan skin of her thin arm and slim cheek. She wore high waisted shorts and a baggy pink t-shirt. Her big, sparkly blue eyes scanned the bloody scene in the cold space of a classic little boy's room.

The boy watched her intently through his shaking and struggling lungs. She let out a sorrowful sigh and took a step into the room, being deliberate with her placement to avoid getting any blood on her white sandals. When she reached the bed, she knelt down to face the child and shushed him.

"Shh...you're alright now." She reached for his red-covered hand, taking it and brushing the back of it as a motherly comfort. "I'm right here. You're safe."

The boy grabbed her hand hard as he let his panic attack fade, clinging to the only person that could calm him. He opened his mouth and spoke to her in a frightened, shaky breath. "Allura," he slowly turned his jerking head toward her, "I think they're dead."

She swallowed in disappointment and glanced around the room again, "Yes, they are."

He returned his scared gaze to the wall as a tear fell down his blood-splattered cheek, "I killed them."

Allura kept her head straight as she raised her eyes to him, "This isn't your fault, Lance."

Lance took a few wobbly deep breaths, keeping his small hand on hers.

She gave his hands a squeeze and shot him a forced smile, "Are you able to walk out of here?"

Lance shook his head, eyes shut tightly. His legs felt cramped and weak, and he knew they were unable to hold his weight.

Allura dropped her gaze, reaching back to pull something out of her back pocket. "Then," she held up black fabric, "Would you like to put this on so I can carry you out?"

Lance's eyes darted to her hand, knowing exactly what she was holding. He breathed a sigh of relief and snatched the pile of black, bringing it to his chest with a relaxed smile. He took a few quick breaths, then held it up to find the nose piece.

Allura patted his leg to console him as she watched him put the black mask over his face.

He placed the nose and jaw piece over his mouth and throat, then wrapped it around the nape of his neck, clipping it with metal buttons. Then, he lifted the hanging strip of black up to lie over the bridge of his nose and wrap around his forehead, connecting it to the other piece tangled in his hair. After a few slight adjustments, he looked down to Allura and opened his arms.

She gave him a sweet smile and laced one arm under his knees and one behind his back, lifting up the frail boy easily. The two exited the room and Allura shut the door behind her, leaving the room bathed in darkness once more.


	2. The Finest Assassin

_This is a routine hit, don't do anything stupid._

Keith heard the monotone, yet snarky deep voice sound through his earpiece. He sat crouched behind a tree in the dim moonlight that filtered through the branches. Cool air ran through his coal hair as he watched over his shoulder at the grand mansion behind him. Sporting his all black combat outfit and gun of choice, he replied to the message with a smirk. "You and I both know that's my style."

_Just don't get yourself killed. Now what's the status?_

Keith scanned the dark, empty windows through his night vision. He huffed in confusion, "Shiro, are you sure Mr. Bigman is home right now?"

_The tracker we placed confirms Mr. Tailour's location. Why? Is something wrong?_

Keith squinted his eyes, straining to catch a glimpse of any movement, "I don't have visual."

_Where are the servants at the moment?_

Keith rolled his eyes, "No- like, I don't have visual on  _anyone_. The whole mansion is dark- on all three floors."

There was a long pause,  _This seems sketchy, you should abort mission and head back to base._

Keith pulled his head back and leaned his back against the trunk of the tree. He furrowed his brows, "No, let's continue."

_Keith. They may know you're coming. It's too risky. Abort mission. Now._

Keith smirked, "No can do, boss." He switched off the earpiece, switching to a solo mission. He slid his back up the tree as he stood, mocking Shiro, "Come back, it's too dangerous!" He chuckled, "I'll do whatever I damn well please."

Keith took a look over his shoulder one more time, then carefully made his way towards the front door, stopping to hide behind various shelter. After reaching a bush to the side of the front door, he scanned the yard. No movement. It was eerily quiet for a mansion housing that many people. Keith checked his watch.  _And it's much too early for any of them to be in bed._  After taking a few more glances, confirming he wasn't spotted, he suck up to the big glass door. Keith stopped again and pressed his ear to the wood. Nothing. He took a confused breath and reached for the handle. Much to his surprise, it was unlocked.

 _Something is off._ He replaced the earpiece and switched it back on. "Shiro, the door is unlocked. I'm heading in."

_Keith! I told you to abort!_

He rolled his eyes and adjusted his grip on his gun, "Well, I'm not doing that, so just fucking help me."

Shiro took a long aggravated breath,  _Alright, go. We can't detect any movement after doing a scan, but be extremely careful. You may not be alone._

"Roger that," he smiled with satisfaction and pushed open the door with his shoulder, bringing his gun up to direct his gaze. Just like the outside, the whole mansion was dark, so Keith stuck to his night vision. Directly across from the door was a set of overly wide marble stairs leading to the second floor. To the right was a blackened entryway into a large room. To the left was a large painting of a black Pomeranian, and the white wall was lined with various brown doors.

Keith inched his way up the stairs, scanning every inch as he walked. He couldn't catch sight of anything until he reached the top of the stairs. On the last step, he stared down the long hallway in front of him. Other than the moonlight casting window marks on the carpet, there was a small black figure on the floor, curled around a corner. After a moment of standing, waiting for it to move, he dropped his gun. "Shiro," he whispered.

_What is it Keith?_

He raised his gun again and started toward the dark mass, "I have visual on something. Unsure of what it is yet. Heading towards it. No movement detected."

_Understood. We still aren't getting any readings, so proceed._

After inching his way forward a few steps, Keith relaxed and lowered his gun, walking normally, but continuing to check over his shoulders. After getting halfway there, he was positive of what it was and stopped to place a frustrated hand on his hip, "Shiro, is this an assassin's game?"

_No one else was assigned to Mr. Tailour. What are you seeing right now?_

Keith tossed his gun on his shoulder and hurried forward lazily, "I've got a body in the second-floor hallway." A man in a black suit lied on the ground, his legs leaked into the hallway. Keith kicked his shoe, "It's definitely a servant."

_A servant? Let me check some things. Proceed with caution._

Keith looked up to the man's head and gasped, "Oh my god."

_What is it?_

The man was unidentifiable. Remnants of his skull and brain were splattered on the floor and blood soaked the carpet. "His head exploded."

There was a chuckle from Shiro on the other end,  _What?!_

Keith slowly raised his eyes to the rest of the hallway that held the servant's top half. He stared in disbelief with furrowed brows.

_Keith?! What's going on?_

"Shiro..." Keith lowered his voice and inched into the bloody hallway. "Shiro, they're all dead. Every person in this mansion."

The hallway was littered with bodies of various deaths. Some had slices in their throats; others had their brains splattered on the walls; and others clutched their chest, covered in the blood of their coworkers.  _Something is definitely wrong._

Keith quickened his pace down the hallway, checking every name tag and face for his target. "Shiro, someone was here."

_Abort the mission! Now!_

Keith ignored him and followed the trial of bodies to the end of the hall, then turned right. He entered a small room with no windows and a poker table in the middle and a bar on the far wall. Four bodies surrounded the table and three reached to a corner of the room. Among the bodies on the floor was none other than Mr. Tailour.

Keith dropped his gun, "Shit. Shiro he's-"

A rustle in the corner of bodies caused Keith to quickly draw his gun and point it towards the noise. Huddled in the corner was a body, hugging their knees and covering their head. Their body shook as if they were cold.  _Or scared_.

Shiro called out,  _Keith! What's happening?_

Keith slowly lowered his gun and leaned toward the shivering body, "Hey, who are  _you_?"

The person jumped at his voice and held up their palms in defense. "Please don't come near me!" It was a guy, and his voice was shaky and desperate, but sweet like honey.

Keith ignored Shiro's calls and walked toward the boy, "Hey, look at me!"

The boy slowly turned his head away from the wall, revealing his frightened, dark eyes. He raised his hands slightly at the sight of Keith's gun.

Keith cocked his head to the side and brought a hand to his hip, "Where's the people that killed them?" He motioned his head to the bodies around the poker table.

The boy looked at the men, then back up at Keith and shook his head.

Keith was starting to get irritated. He hated working with people like that. He audibly sighed, "Listen, I need you to-"

_Keith! You're going to have company soon!_

"Company?" He finally answered Shiro, "What's their E.T.A?"

_Umm...maybe seven minutes._

"Shit!" He ran his gloved fingers through his hair, "I've got a guy here, he's spooked. Possibly a hostage."

Shiro groaned in thought,  _Ugh, just take him with you and get out of there!_

"Take him?" Keith let out an irritated voice, "That's not my job!"

_Just get the fuck out of there! Take the boy!_

Keith turned his body in frustration,  "Damn it!" He stared at the boy for a moment, then stomped over to yank his arm. He pulled him up, to his resistance.

The boy pulled his arm out of Keith's grasp and covered his face with his hands.

"Damn it! I don't have time for this shit!" Keith wrapped his gun strap around his neck and bent down to grab the boy's legs.

Keith lifted him up and threw him over his shoulder and headed for the door, "Shiro! I'm coming out! Bring the car!"

Keith called out to the struggling boy, "Looks like you're coming with me, Princess!"


	3. The Hellhound

Keith ruffled his damp hair with a white towel, looking at his reflection stare back at him in the hotel bathroom. He wore loose black sweatpants and his chest was bare. A toothbrush hung from his lips as he checked his face in the mirror. He rinsed out his mouth and walked into the room, fluffing his hair with the towel around his neck.

Shiro sat at the desk by the door, typing away at his computer; and the scared boy sat on one of the beds hugging his knees and chewing on his nails. Keith stopped at the end of it to stare at him, hands pulling on each side of his towel. He kept his gaze on him as he spoke, "Hey Shiro?"

Shiro continued his typing, "What is it?"

He took a frustrated breath and scratched his head, "What are we gonna do with him?"

Shiro leaned over to look at the boy, keeping his hands on the keyboard. After a moment, he returned to his work, "I don't know."

Keith shot him an annoyed glance. He was used to killing people, not saving them. His stare returned to the bed and he strode to the side and took a seat. He placed a hand on the blanket and leaned towards him, "Do you wanna tell me your name now?"

The boy raised his eyes to Keith, meeting his gaze. Keith was suddenly unsettled with his presence. His piercing eyes were a foggy dark blue, and they seemed to look through his dark terracotta hair right into Keith's soul. He was thin and his swarthy skin was smooth and held a slight glow. The green jacket around his shoulders was splattered with dried blood, matching his jeans. He kept his lips slightly parted as he stared.

Keith averted his gaze and brought a hand to the back of his neck, "Uh, your name?"

He bit his lip slightly, dropping his intense eyes, "Lance."

Keith was taken aback by his voice. It was sweet and smooth, and it seemed to cling to his teeth. "Lance," he repeated with a nod. "Alright," he paused for a moment. Keith wasn't expecting an answer. "Do you wanna tell me who killed those men back there?"

Lance lowered his solemn eyes without an answer.

Keith inspected him with furrowed brows, "Wait," he collected his thoughts, "was that  _you_?"

Lance shifted his weight and nibbled on his thumb.

Keith waited in anticipation, unsure if he wanted an answer or not.

After a few moments, Lance gave a faint nod.

Keith jumped up in defense and muttered to himself, "How the fuck..."

"Keith?" Shiro got his attention, "Whats wrong?"

Keith opened his mouth to say something to Lance, but couldn't find the words. He gave up and strode over to Shiro, watching the bed over his shoulder. "Um," Keith stopped in front of him and crossed his arms, "he was the one who killed everyone back there."

Shiro's face scrunched up in confusion and stared at the frightened boy. He returned his gaze to Keith, "Him?"

Keith shrugged his shoulders, then turned around to face Lance, "Hey!"

Lance jumped at the shout and looked to the two men.

"How  _did_ you kill them?" Keith motioned to him with a hand, "I mean, you don't look like any killer I've seen."

Lance pulled his hands up to his head and tucked it between his knees.

Keith and Shiro shared a confused look and Keith walked over to the shaken boy. He placed a hand on his shoulder, "Hey, what are you-"

Keith was cut off when Lance jerked back and slapped his hand away, "Please don't touch me!"

Keith held up his stunned hand as he processed what happened. "Um, Lance? What the fuck?"

Lance pulled a hand to his chest and clutched his jacket. Turning away, he reluctantly explained, "You can't touch my face! That's- that's how they-" his voice cut off as he clamped his teeth over his bottom lip.

Keith's chest sunk in realization, "No fucking way."

" _What_?" Shiro pleaded for answers.

Keith took a step back and clutched his hands into fists, "You're the fucking  _Hellhound?_ "

Lance winced at the name and covered his face with his arms.

"What the fuck is the Hellhound?" Shiro questioned.

Keith gathered his thoughts as he stared at Lance in disbelief. "It's the-uh," he shook his head to clear it and turned to face Shiro, "You know all those mysterious deaths that all of the hit men are talking about?"

Shiro crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow, "Yeah..."

"Well, they gave him the nickname 'the Hellhound.'" Keith talked with his hands as he explained, "We all thought it was some up-and-coming assassin that was super highly trained. No one that saw him ever lived to say, so we were never sure."

Shiro took a deep breath to wrap his mind around the concept.

Keith pointed to Lance, "That's him. It makes sense now. I mean, we found him in a mansion full of a bunch of dead rich men!" He crossed his arms and lowered his gaze in frustrated realization. "So that means..."

"Everyone that knows is trying to kill him." Shiro finished, running a hand over his face.

Keith reached across the bed and yanked Lance's jacket towards him, "How the fuck did you kill them?!"

Lance pulled his body back as much as he could and turned his face away, "It's my fucking face, alright?!" He shoved Keith off with a hard push.

Keith threw his hands up, "What the hell are you talking about?!"

Lance clutched his jacket with a hand and met his gaze. His eyes had teared up and his voice broke, "I don't know why! I've been like this since I was a kid. You can't touch my face or you'll die in some way! So please, just stay back!"

Keith went to jump forward, but Shiro's arm stopped him, "That's enough!" He turned to Lance, "Are you telling the truth?"

Lance squeezed his eyes shut and cried out, "Yes! There's a woman that takes care of me, please let me call her!"

Keith leaned into Shiro's arm, "Why the fuck would we let you call someone?!"

"Knock it off!" Shiro reached back to pull out a phone and looked to Lance, "What's the number?"


	4. The Handler

Shiro took the phone call on the other side of the room. Keith put on his leather jacket and pants and sat on the edge of one of the beds, arms crossed and an annoyed stare directed at Lance. Lance sat hugging his knees and hiding the lower half of his face as he stared back.

Keith was over the situation. He couldn't wait for whoever took care of him to come and be on their way. He found Lance annoying and hard to work with. And he didn't believe a word he said. Keith figured he was crazy or something. Or he was lying. Maybe he really was a highly trained undercover spy or something and didn't want his cover blown. Either way, Keith didn't trust him one bit.

They sat there staring at each other until a knock was heard at the door. Shiro let them in, briefing the girl on the situation. She thanked him and ran over to Lance. Keith watched their interaction with judging eyes.

The woman knelt down and set her hands on the bed, "Lance, are you alright?! Oh I was so worried about you!"

Lance nodded and softened his shoulders, "Yes, I'm okay." He inspected her, "Did you bring it?"

She brought her hands up in surprise, "Oh! Yes, I did." She reached into her white bag and pulled out something black, handing it to Lance.

Lance took it and placed it over his face. The black leather mask covered his nose and mouth, wrapping around his jaw and a part of his neck as well. It had a gentle point on the bridge of the nosepiece and a tiny pink heart under his left eye. After securing it, he turned to the woman and they grabbed each other's hands in a teammate kind of way.

The girl turned to Keith and placed her manicured fingers on her chest, "My name is Allura. I've watched over Lance since he was a kid. I would like to thank you for saving him."

Keith huffed, keeping his arms crossed, "What's up with the mask?"

Allura lowered her gaze, "I think we should have a little chat."

Lance stayed where he was while the three of them talked in the hallway. Allura brought her hands up to her chest in a delicate manner, "Lance was born with a curse-well, that's what we call it. There isn't any other way to explain." She looked to both men as she continued, "When Lance was a child, he was found in his house with both of his parents dead in the living room. No one was blamed and the case went cold."

She brought her arms down and laced her fingers together, "I'm his aunt. I offered to take care of him after his parents passed. He was confused and scared all the time; and he refused to let anyone touch him. He never made friends or opened up to anyone, and I feared that he was in danger of hurting himself."

She stopped and took a breath to compose herself. She talked with her hands as she continued, "One day, Lance was harassed on the street-I was with him. Two men brought us behind a building. They were about to-you know- to me and Lance pleaded with them to stop. That's when one of the men slapped him." Her eyes drifted in remembrance, "It happened fast. The man's throat just opened and he bled out. At that time...Lance was different. He was scary. He stood up to face the other man and grabbed his hand. He resisted a little, but Lance brought his hand to touch his cheek, then let go. A second later and the man clutched his chest and fell to the ground."

Allura locked eyes with Shiro and Keith, switching between them, "That's when he told me about his parents and my dog and a teacher at his school. I finally understood why he never wanted me to touch him." She wrapped her arms around her waist and closed her eyes, "He's not hateful," She lifted her head in desperation, "Lance is a good person! He really doesn't want to hurt anyone. You must believe me."

Keith processed the information slowly, rolling over all the options in his head. Did he believe it? No. But he wasn't about to test it. The best option was to go along with it. His attention was suddenly brought back to the conversation at the mention of his name.

"-with Keith and I." Shiro motioned to the both of them, "Unfortunately, people are aware that we have him."

Allura stepped forward and brought her hands to her chest, "But that's too dangerous!"

Shiro crossed his arms, "It's more dangerous to let him go with you. I can assure you, we are trained to be in these situations."

She opened her mouth to protest, but backed down, "You're right." She brought a hand through her hair, "I knew this day would come."

Keith pieced together the remnants of the conversation to figure out what he missed. When it came together, he was pissed. He whipped his head around to face Shiro, "Wait. Are you saying that he's staying with us?!"

Shiro shook his head, "No," he placed a finger on Keith's chest, "He's staying with  _you._ New assignment: keep him alive."

Keith furrowed his brows, "You've got to be kidding me."

Shiro ignored him, "Go inside, I will finish up here."

Allura took Keith's hand, "Thank you! Please keep him safe!"

Keith yanked his hand away and slammed the door closed behind him, muttering curses to himself.

"Are you alright?" Lance's voice was muffled by the leather.

Keith groaned and rubbed his eyes as he walked to the mini-fridge to pull out a beer. Taking a sip, he ran his fingers through his hair and called out to Lance, "Looks like you're with me now, Princess."


	5. The Pilot

Keith was woken up in the middle of the night by a sudden bang in the hotel. He quickly sat up in the bed and reached for his gun. When he wasn't in a safe environment, he always slept fully clothed and with his gun by the bed. He glanced over to check Lance in the other bed, who sleeping soundly. Then, he turned his head to Shiro next to him, who was also asleep fully clothed. Keith felt a burn in his chest that signaled something was wrong. Grabbing the pillow behind him, he smacked Shiro with it.

Shiro jumped awake and rubbed his eyes, "What the hell?"

"Shh!" Keith let his eyes drift around the room as he pointed to the footsteps on the floor above them, "I think we've got company."

The two hastily but silently got out of the bed and held their guns across their chests. Keith stretched an arm over to Lance, waking him with a shake and putting a finger over his own mouth. Lance gave him a questioning look, but quickly pieced the situation together and got up to put his shoes on.

Keith and Shiro shared a concerned look as they waited for Lance to get ready. Inspecting the footsteps above them, Keith closed his eyes to listen. It sounded like more than 5 people were all trekking down the halls of the hotel. Then, another bang sounded along with muffled, faint screams.  _Shit!_ Keith opened his eyes and turned to Shiro, "They know we're here, let's go."

Shiro nodded and pointed to Lance, "Keep him safe."

Keith's mind brought back the memory of last night; and he remembered the job that was thrust upon him: keep Lance alive. He pushed his eyebrows together and frowned. Turning around to grab Lance's arm and pulling him close. "Hold onto my back, we're getting out of here."

Lance nodded with wide eyes and concerned eyebrows, and walked close to Keith, keeping a hand wrapped around a strap on his vest.

Keith took a deep breath and stepped toward the door. Even though he didn't really like the guy, he was relieved to feel the heat of Lance's body on his back. It told him that he was still alive. Keith shook his head and chalked it up to his passion for his assignments. Shiro picked up his satchel and threw it over his shoulder, starting toward the exit.

Keith adjusted his grip on his gun as he leaned up against the wall next to the door. According to the hotel layout, they were able to get out quickly if they turned right and took the stairwell down to the main floor. Keith heard the sticking of leather and glanced over his shoulder. Lance had wrapped his mask back on his face and nodded to Keith. Keith gave him a slight nod and turned back to the door.

Shiro was crouched down and held a pistol his left hand, pointing up. They waited for the footsteps to enter another room, then bolted out the door. Keith checked down both ways of the brown and cream hallway. It was clear. Keith turned right and hugged the wall as he marched, aiming to reach the stairs as quickly as possible. Lance's anxious breathing and whimpering made Keith's chest ache a little; and he moved his gun to his right hand and pulled his left arm back in an attempt to keep Lance between him and the wall. Lance's free hand tightly latched onto Keith's shoulder in response.

They were halfway to the door to the stairwell when gunshots zipped past them without warning, just missing Keith's left ear. He quickly glanced over his back to find the source. Three armed men in deep purple shot at them, obviously aiming to kill. Keith scoffed in anger and let his instinct take over. In one swift motion, he turned around to wrap his arm around Lance's waist and picked him up. Lance secured himself to Keith, wrapping his legs around his waist and his arms around his neck. Keith let his right arm stay back to fire a few shots at the men as he turned around, keeping his head back as he ran. Lance whimpered and tucked his head into Keith's neck, scared at the deafening sound of gunshots.

Shiro burst through the door and Keith swung his body around to exit the hallway with a couple more shots. After the door shut, he leaped down the stairs. "Shiro!" Keith wrapped his gun hand around Lance's back, "They know we're here, the door's a trap!"

Shiro groaned, "I know!" Reaching the bottom of one flight, he lifted his robotic arm and punched the ugly white-bordered window. The sound of shattered glass filled the claustrophobic space as it littered the floor. Shiro turned around and motioned to it, "Go! Get Lance out of here!"

Keith leaned toward window to calculate his plan. They were only one story up, but it was much too high for him to jump out with Lance in his arms. Sticking his head out, he caught sight of more men below, aiming directly at him. He instantly whipped his head back behind shelter with a strained groan. He whipped his head around to face Shiro, "How the fuck do you think I could do that?!"

Just as he finished his shout, his ears caught the thundering of helicopter blades above them. A rope ladder dropped down to them, bringing a smirk to Keith's face. He pulled his arms back to hold Lance's waist, attempting to pull him off. Lance wouldn't budge. Keith was about to get irritated with him when he felt the shaking of the thin body. He rolled his eyes and tucked an arm back around Lance's back, using the other to pull one leg over the window. He placed his foot on a brick ledge and turned back to Shiro, "Give me your vest!"

Shiro quickly wiggled out of it and wrapped it around Lance. Lance pulled away slightly to thread his arms through, then clung to Keith again.

Keith brought his other leg out and braced himself for the jump. As Shiro shot at the men below, Keith called to Lance, shouting over the violent wind of the helicopter, "Hold on tight!" He pushed his body up as high as he could and reached for the ladder, grabbing it with his free hand. He felt a jerking movement as Shiro latched onto the ladder underneath him.

After reaching the top, Keith rolled onto the metal floor, protecting Lance's head with his gloved hands. Lance finally let go of him and found himself a chair, folding himself up. Shiro was brought up with a helping hand from Keith, thanking him with a pat on the shoulder.

Keith whooped and stood to face the hotel as they flew away. He placed headphones over his ears and talked into them, "Coran! You are a fucking boss!"

Coran's cheery accented voice chuckled back, "Glad to be of some help!"

Keith leaned out of the helicopter with a devilish smirk to flip off their attempted deaths.


	6. The Song

Keith watched Lance sit next to a window, trailing his fingers across the glass. It was low enough for him to sit comfortably, hug his knees, and lean his head against the frame. He had to borrow Shiro's old dark grey sweater, and it hung off his shoulders attractively. Lance's dusky blue eyes gazed somberly out at the reds and browns of the trees upon the hills, and his fingers traced the top of the grey skyline. Strands of his cocoa hair framed his cheeks and rested against his pert nose.

Keith often found himself watching the skittish boy's behavior. He found Lance interesting-not to mention beautiful. The two had grown a little closer within their short time together, talking almost normally to each other. Keith sat on the edge of the bed a few feet away, cleaning his equipment. His eyes had just returned to his gun when they immediately jumped back, attracted to the sound of Lance's humming. Keith let his body relax and he listened intently with a soft curious smile on his face. Lance's voice resonated inside his chest with the honeyed sweetness of brown sugar. After a pleasant melody of gentle hums, he kept his mouth barely open as he started to sing.

_Thick-skinned chameleon climbs the curtains hanging on the wall;_   
_The only living ghost to grace the hall_

Keith's head naturally tilted at the somber melody, drawing him into the mesmerizing tune. It filled the space with warmth.

_Meanwhile on the battlefield, another soldier boldly his tongue;_   
_The only noble thing he's ever done_

Lance let his thin fingers drift down the glass, and eventually fall. He took a deep breath as he closed his mouth, stopping his smooth voice. The abrupt end left the room silent and cold.

Keith's chest yearned to hear more of the song, but he didn't have the heart to ask. With reluctancy, he lowered his head back down to continue his work.

The room stayed tense for a minute, leaving an empty feeling in Keith's chest. He wanted to hear the sweet voice again. Picking up his gun to lay it across the bed behind him, Keith spoke in a greeting, "Hey Lance."

Lance turned his head to face him, eyes locked. He let out a quiet, breathy voice, "Hi."

Keith leaned his elbows on his knees and folded his hands, "So...what's your favorite treat?"

Lance raised an eyebrow in confusion. As he continued talking, his voice gradually gained confidence, "My what?"

"Your favorite food, sweet, treat, whatever. What is it?" He used his hands to talk, keeping his elbows glued to his legs.

Lance thought for a moment, letting his gaze drift as he did. Then after a few seconds, he picked up eye contact. "Strawberry cake. Like the ones at bakeries, with whipped cream and a strawberry on top."

Keith was unsure if he was going to even answer the question, so the detailed response surprised him.  _That has to be the longest statement he's ever said to me._  "Oh, that sounds really sweet."

"Yeah," Lance lowered his head with a tender smile and tucked a few strands of hair behind his ear.

The action was adorable, pulling a blush from Keith's cheeks. He raised his chest and brought a hand behind his head, averting his gaze, "Well, um, yeah."

Lance giggled when he noticed Keith's reaction. His eyes softened and he brought a playful hand to his mouth. "Do you think I'm pretty," he teased.

Keith blushed harder and stuttered, taken aback by the sudden show of emotion. Lance was always curled up, covering his head or looking off with somber gaze. His forever sorrowful expression had turned into gentle playfulness.

Lance let his legs drop to a crisscrossed position, holding his smile, "It's alright," he leaned his head back on the window, "I think you're handsome, too."

Keith returned his eyes to Lance's and leaned back down on his knees with a smirk, "You do?"

Lance lifted his head, "Well, who couldn't?" He motioned to Keith, "I mean, look at you."

Keith crossed his arms confidently, "Well I didn't think you were into men."

Lance's eyes sparkled as he chuckled, "Didn't think you were into men either."

Keith uncrossed his arms, "Yeah, I am."

Lance's smile faltered and he returned his gaze to the window, "But don't fall for me, it won't work."

Keith clicked his tongue, "Never said I did."

Lance flashed him a straight face, "You think I'm crazy, don't you?" It was a question, but it sounded more like a statement.

Keith's mouth formed a cocky smile, "Yeah," he pushed on his knees to stand, "I'm not convinced with the whole 'I magically kill people' thing."

Lance took a frustrated breath, returning to the glass, "Suit yourself, just don't try anything."

"Alright Princess," he lifted his hands in sarcastic defense, "whatever you say." He turned to leave the room.

Lance called after him in an aggravated tone, "And stop calling me that!"


	7. The Beautiful Dark Blue

Keith shivered at the feeling of Lance's hands stroking his thighs. He held a hand over his mouth to stifle his voice as he watched the seductive gaze of the dusty blue eyes scan his body. Keith was lying on his back, sinking into his sheets. And Lance was crawling up his legs with a playful smirk painted on his face.

Lance's skin was sparkling in the moonlight and his hair shone with a mystic teal. He shot a wink up at Keith and leaned down to kiss his abdomen. His hair tickled Keith's pale skin as he climbed up his abs with his petite tongue. With an adorable giggle, Lance's lips brushed his chin as he hovered centimeters from his face.

Keith removed his hand from his mouth to brush Lance's hair from his face. His fingers tucked a few strands behind his ear, bringing a slight blush to Lance's cheeks. Holding his head with both hands, Keith let their mouths lust for each other, hardly touching. Lance's breath tickled his nose and his crystal eyes hypnotized him. The tempting action brought out his instincts and threw away any lasting rationality. He wanted Lance. He  _wanted_ Lance. He slid his thumb over his bottom lip and pulled it down seductively. The two of them finally gave in with a few pants and closed the distance between them with a passionate kiss.

"Keith!" Shiro slammed a heavy bag onto the bed beside Keith, waking him from his sexy dream.

Keith jumped up with the sudden wake-up call, holding a hand on his chest and shooting a hateful glare at his brother. "Shiro, I swear to god, I'm gonna fucking kill you."

His hands were occupied with packing more things into the duffel bag. He smirked with a raised eyebrow, "Did I interrupt something?"

The blankets flapped as they were thrown off and Keith stood up. He punched Shiro's arm as he stomped past, "Fucker."

Shiro just laughed and continued his task, muttering joking comments under his breath.

Keith ran his fingers through his hair as he inspected his face in the bathroom mirror. Sweat covered his bare chest and neck, and his face was red and flustered. His fists gripped the sides of the sink as he hung his head.  _What the fuck was that?_  After a few breaths, he turned on the faucet and lowered his chest to splash his face with cold water.

Everyone involved with Lance's custody had to plan out what to do next. Coran and Shiro talked at a small table next to the kitchen, Lance was sitting on the counter with his head resting on one of his knees, and Keith was leaning against the bar trying his hardest not to stare. Every time his eyes wandered over to Lance, the dream replayed in his mind. Keith hadn't really thought about what he felt for Lance. It wasn't a big deal to him, just a little crush. During their talk a few days prior, it was disclosed that they both were attracted to each other. The only problem was Lance's situation. Keith still wasn't convinced, but just dealt with the rules-as unfair as he felt they were.

"Well, if we are together then it's more likely for Lance to be traced." Coran's voice was threaded with concern, but still held all its power.

Shiro rubbed the back of his neck, "But if we aren't all together, then he could be taken or killed a lot easier."

Keith leaned his head down onto an elbow and cocked one leg, "I'm not exactly incompetent."

Coran and Shiro both looked to Keith with curious gazes.

"And I mean," he lifted his head back up, "we don't have to be too far from each other. Just close enough to come when someone is needed."

The two fell silent as they averted their eyes, thinking over Keith's words. Everyone stayed still, waiting for an answer to finally arrive. In the end, Lance spoke up.

"Keith's right." He locked eyes with him," It's the safest option."

Keith took a frustrated breath and rubbed his face, "We know that." He maneuvered his way around the black countertop to find a place across from Lance. He propped his back against it and set his feet on the floor between Lance's legs. Locking eyes, he explained, "We are deciding who's gonna take you."

Lance mouthed an 'oh' and let his gaze fall. "Well," he hesitated, "I want to be with Keith."

Keith blushed lightly, but smirked and leaned towards him, "Well, Princess, it doesn't really work like-"

"Sounds good." Shiro stood up and gathered his things.

Keith raised his hand in confusion, "What? Why?"

"You're the hard work," Coran added, "It's your job to keep people from dying."

"Yeah," Keith whined with a hand on his chest, " _myself!_ "

Shiro picked up his black briefcase and carefully directed it around the chair as he left, "Complain all you want, but he's yours now."

Keith leaned back against the counter and crossed his arms. He kept a nonverbal conversation with Lance through their eyes. Their staring lasted for a while after Coran and Shiro had left the house. They would be staying in two separate safe houses, keeping an eye on their communications. Keith and Lance would stay at Keith's safe house until they felt the need to leave. Keith's apartment was on the larger side- with a kitchen plus dining area on the right side, a bedroom on the left, and a living room area in the middle.

Keith took a long breath, then opened his mouth, "You are aware that people want to kill us, right?"

Lance kept his smug expression as he dropped his leg down, "People have wanted to kill me since I was five years old. This is nothing-"

Lance paused his sentence as Keith placed his hands on the counter beside his hips. He leaned close to his face and stared in his eyes. "-new," Lance finished.

Keith wanted to kiss him. He wanted to rip his shirt off and pin him to the wall. To throw him onto his bed and fuck him senseless. He looked down to Lance's slightly parted lips then back at his eyes. He would've kissed him if he hadn't been stopped by Lance's soft hand on his mouth.

Lance held both of his hands over Keith's mouth. With a shaky whisper he pleaded, "That's not a good idea."

Keith pulled his head away from Lance's hands. "Why?" His voice was stern and lustful.

Lance dropped one hand and let the fingertips of the other graze over Keith's lips. His dark blue eyes stared at them with a pained frown, "You would die."

Keith was getting pissed off. Not only was he forced to watch over some crazy guy, he also couldn't get himself off. Watching over a stunningly beautiful person without being able to touch them was wearing down on Keith's mind. He gritted his teeth and stood up with a shove to the counter. "Suit yourself." He turned to walk into the living room.

Lance huffed and rolled his eyes as he jumped down from the counter, "Keith!" He refused to look back as Lance chased after him. He finally decided to grab his arm and spin him around, "Would you just look at me?!"

Keith chuckled and ran his fingers through his hair, "Look, I get it. I'm not gonna do anything."

Lance furrowed his eyebrows and dropped his arms to his side in annoyance, "Are you fucking kidding me? You're being dramatic."

Keith backed away with arms raised sarcastically, "If you don't want to sleep with me, that's fine. I'm not gonna force you."

Lance stepped forward and yanked his arm down to hold his hip. Keith was surprised, but he accepted the action and brought his other hand down to grasp Lance's hips, pulling them towards his own.

Lance inched his way forward and rested his forehead against Keith's chest. His hand tugged on his black shirt, "It's not that." His voice tightened in frustration, "Of course I want to sleep with you."

Keith rolled his eyes with a sigh, "Then what is it? You're fucking  _magic curse_?"

Lance's fist tightened around the fabric. His voice was just as annoyed as it was hurt, "I know you don't believe me, but I'm just asking you to trust me until you do."

" _If_ I ever do."

"Sure, whatever." Lance pulled back and let go of him. He looked like he was going to turn and leave, but he stopped and placed a hand over Keith's mouth. He hesitantly lowered his lips to the back of his hand, kissing it gently. He pulled away and removed his hand, "It's just not that."


	8. The Cake

Keith stood with his hands in his pockets and his hood up. His eyes followed the mundane actions of the various people in the bakery: a little girl with pigtails jumping up and down and tugging on her father's hand, a tan woman receiving a large white box, two high school girls sharing a cupcake. He tried to move his legs away, but his body wouldn't budge. Keith begged himself to continue on, but he finally gave in and entered the bakery.

The little bell jingled as he opened the door. He was hit by a wave of warm vanilla. The smell of crispy pastries and cinnamon rolls permeated the dim yellow air. Keith's eyed scanned over the treats behind the glass counter. It held an assortment of cupcakes decorated with colorful frostings and topped with chocolate or spices or cookies.

His ears reacted to the sound of a bag crinkling as a man accepted it with a 'thanks have a nice day.' Keith followed him with his eyes as he left the store and turned right, pulling out his phone. Keith turned back to the glass and scanned over the sweets until he found what he was looking for: a piece of cake covered with sparkly white frosting and topped with whipped cream and a glazed dark red strawberry.

"Welcome back," Lance greeted him with a smile.

Keith gave him a nod and quick smile as he entered, careful not to hit the cake box. He was surprised at how comfortable Lance had gotten, as he only wore a grey tank top and shorts.

Lance clicked all of the locks into place, then rubbed his hands together in satisfaction. Then, he pointed to the opaque bag as Keith set it on the table, "What is that?"

Keith held back the urge to stare at Lance's baby pink sport shorts. "It's for you."

He tilted his head and smiled in confused surprise as he lifted his arms, "For me?"

Keith scratched the back of his head with a hand on his hip as Lance's slim fingers picked open the bag and opened the box. He flashed a wide smile at Keith, then looked back down to admire the cake. "You got this for me?" His aegean eyes shimmered with appreciation and his lips curled upward, showing off his teeth.

Keith turned his head sideways and fiddled with his hair, "Well, I-I mean, I just, just remember that you liked it, so-" he trailed off.

"Thank yo-"

Lance was cut off by the deafening crash of glass. Shattered pieces of the large window fell onto the wood floor. Keith quickly jumped forward to wrap his arms around Lance's waist and yank him back into the kitchen, curling up behind the shelter of the counters. The stomping of boots entered the apartment, crunching the glass. Keith cursed under his breath and slid over to a cabinet, retrieving a gun from inside. Lance was curled up, covering his head and shaking. Keith yanked out his phone and called Shiro. He reached over to pull Lance's arm toward him. Lance looked at him with a scared, desperate expression.

Keith shoved the phone into his chest, "Tell Shiro what's going on." He motioned to the open cabinet, "Get in and be as quiet as possible."

Lance hesitated for a second, but complied and climbed in. Keith closed it behind him and gripped his gun with both hands. Now that Lance was out of view, he mentally panicked. Various boots explored the apartment, searching through the rooms. Soon they would find him. Lance was hidden, so as far as they knew: Keith was the only one there. There wasn't anywhere Keith could hide, so he had two choices: fight or wait for Shiro and Coran. Judging by the frequency of steps, Keith figured there were at least six men. Keith was good with a gun, but not that good. There was no way that he could take on six people on his own. It was only a matter of time before they found him, and he had nowhere to go. It would be near impossible to wait long enough for help to arrive.

I'm fucked. Keith's breath became ragged as he listened to the sound of someone creeping toward the kitchen. He was surrounded on both sides. He tightened his grip and bit his lip. He tried to calm himself and think logically.

There was no way he was getting out unscathed. If he didn't die while fighting them, he would die shortly after. The only solid thing was that Lance was safe. No one knew he was with him. Keith was doing his job; so there was only one option left.

"Drop your weapon!"

Keith raised his head to look at both gun barrels aimed at him from both sides. The men were wearing dark purple with black- the standard of the Galra recruits.

"I said drop your weapon!"

Keith controlled his angry breathing as he reluctantly chucked his gun to the other side of the kitchen, way out of reach.


	9. The Gun

Lance stayed huddled in the cabinet for a lot longer than he needed to. He stifled his whimpering as he heard Keith fight back the men that tackled him. He heard Keith's gagging as a cloth was stuffed into his mouth. The men's boots sweeping the apartment again. The distant sound of Keith's struggling, until it fell silent. Until there were no more footsteps. No more frightening voices. No more struggling.

He stayed in the cabinet until he heard a knock at the small door. A calm, sullen voice spoke through the wood, "Lance?"

He hesitantly pushed open the cabinet door with his toes, finding a worried team. Grasping the phone tightly to his chest, he glanced between the crouched Shiro and the pacing Coran.

Shiro held out a hand, "Come on out, they're gone."

Lance stared at his hand until he pulled it away. Then, he slowly maneuvered his way onto the linoleum. With his bare legs in a W, he dropped his head.

Shiro stayed down, leaning on his knees as he spoke to Coran in a low voice, "Any sign of him?"

Lance didn't need to hear his response. His once bright blue eyes teared up and he dropped Keith's phone. With anger in his heart, he struck Shiro's chest with his fists, "Where were you?!" His voice broke with frustration, "You were supposed to save him!"

Shiro took the pitiful blows, allowing Lance to let his anger out. "Lance, that's not how the plan goes."

Lance stopped hitting him with fists held up next to his head. A tear fell down his cheek, "What?!"

Shiro met the boy's glare, "Lance, we are here to save  _you_."

Lance's shaky breathing deepened with realization. He looked to Coran, who had his arms crossed and eyes to the floor. Eyes switching between them, he stuttered, "But you- you said-" he let out a small sob, "he's a part of your  _team!_ "

Shiro swallowed hard and licked his lips, "Lance, Keith's job was to keep you safe. And in the-"

Lance struck his chest again and again as he continued, not wanting to hear what he knew was coming.

Shiro's voice raised slightly, "And in the event of a raid, the plan is to keep  _you_ alive long enough for the others to get you."

" _Stop_!" Lance called out with sorrow.

His voice hardened, "Keith has done his job. It wasn't ours to save him."

Lance's arms lost their strength and dropped to the dusty floor of the kitchen. A few tears fell on the back of his hands as hiccuped more sobs. When Shiro reached for Keith's phone, Lance flinched and grabbed it. He kept it glued to his chest, "No!"

The frustrated man gave up and stood to get away from Lance. He walked toward the table with a hand rubbing the back of his neck.

Lance suddenly remembered the cake and jumped up to run to it. His heart broke at the sight of shiny glass embedded into the frosting. He almost grabbed some until Coran stopped him with a 'no.' He whipped his body around to look around at the mess of the apartment. The wind blew across his skin, making him realize that he was cold. Lance walked right over some glass to go toward Keith's room. His feet stung at the pain and left a few drops of blood on the hardwood. Ignoring Shiro and Coran's pleas, he opened Keith's door and walked in.

Lance always slept on the couch, so he had never seen it. Much like the rest of the apartment, Keith's room was minimal. It held a queen bed with plain white bedding, a dark wooden dresser across from it, and a closet on the far wall. Lance ignored the stinging of his steps and approached the closet. Opening it, he examined the contents and picked out what he wanted.

He retrieved his own jeans, then put on Keith's black long-sleeved Under Armour and bulletproof vest. He pulled the glass out of his feet and bandaged them before lacing up a pair of black boots. Before leaving the room, Lance lied on Keith's bed. The dreary blankets held the scent of Ralph Lauren and cigarettes. It was a distinct smell that Lance had grown to find comfort in. He drew in as much as he could.

Once he returned to the kitchen, he noticed Keith's gun on the table. Lance never looked at it closely, nor did he know that much about them. It was a larger gun, black, probably semi-automatic, and definitely customized. Lance gripped it in his hands and pointed it to the ceiling, causing concerned pleas to arise from Shiro. He turned to them, "Teach me how to use it."

Shiro rolled his eyes in annoyance, "Put that down, we need to get you out of here."

Lance snapped, "Teach me how or I'm  _throwing myself_  out of that  _god damn window_!"

His sudden harshness surprised Shiro, who opened his mouth to protest. Coran placed a hand on Shiro's arm and shook his head. He backed down with crossed arms as Coran turned to Lance, "We will. You hang on to that, and let's get to a safe place."


	10. The Plan

Coran stood in front of Lance, the tall grass licking his knees. He held Keith's gun as he went through the lesson. Lance kept his eyes glued on the gun as Coran explained.

"Now, Lance," Coran started, bobbing the gun as he talked, "It is impossible for me to teach you how to fight like we can, so I'm going to teach you defensive shooting. This gun is a customized AR-15.

"Now this-" he flipped a small switch with his thumb, "Is the safety. Right now, it's on.

He stopped to take notice of Lance's stare, "Lance, are you listening?"

Lance nodded, eyes on the black, "Yes."

Coran took a frustrated breath and rested the gun against his chest with both hands. "Lance."

Lance finally looked him in the eyes with curiosity.

"There's a couple rules I'm going to go over, so listen carefully."

He nodded.

"One: Don't point this at anyone you don't want to shoot. Keep it safely away from them,  _even if it's not loaded and the safety is on._  Two: keep your finger away from the trigger until you are ready to shoot. Three: know what you are shooting  _and_ what is around it.

Coran took a pause and maintained direct eye contact, "Now this is super important."

Lance hesitantly nodded, anxious to start learning.

"This gun can kill someone.  _You_ can kill someone. You must remember that," his head moved to emphasize his words, "And If  _this_ gun can kill someone, so can their's. The Galra are highly trained. You  _will not_ survive a direct fight with even one of them, so stay close to us. No running off on your own or disobeying orders. Listen and comply, got it?"

"Got it." Lance chewed on his cheek.

Coran looked to Shiro. He was leaning against a tree across the field, crossing his arms. He gave Coran a nod.

He turned back to Lance, "Alright," he handed him the gun, "here you go."

Lance's fingers touched the rough, cold metal. The gun was heavier than he thought it was going to be.

Coran adjusted his hands, correcting his grip on it, "Always hold it like this."

Coran taught Lance how to clear the gun, load the magazine, and the correct way to look down the sights. Two days were spent practicing the basic mechanics of the gun, three days were spent on proper stance and how to safely maneuver through a building, and two more days were spent on target practice. Once Lance knew the basics of using Keith's gun, Shiro moved on to hand-to-hand combat and defense. Lance wasn't perfect in any of these areas. Not even close. But, he knew enough to defend himself.

Lance had his arms folded over his chest and legs outstretched with ankles crossed, leaning back in a porch chair. "When are we going to get Keith?"

Coran stopped his grilling to stare at the boy. His eyes dropped, "Lance,"

"I know," Lance's voice was stern and upset, "I remember what you said. I know the rules. But..."

Coran flipped over a steak, triggering a sizzle and meat aroma to enter the cool air.

"But I cant just leave him!" Lance uncrossed his arms and leaned against the glass table. "We don't know what he's going through right now- what they are doing to him."

"Lance," Coran warned.

"He's probably being beaten as we sit here eating fine steak!" His arms lifted, "They've probably tortured him for the past week. I have to save him!"

"Lance!" Shiro's voice cut through the evening breeze like an arrow, causing Lance to jump and pull his arms toward his chest. "Keith knows how to handle this situation," he slowly emphasized every word, " _It is not our job to save him._ "

Lance leaned toward him and slapped the table, "It may not matter to  _you,_ but I can't just let him be killed off."

Shiro shoved his chair back with his knees, "He's a professional!"

Lance repeated Shiro's action in anger, slamming his hands down onto the glass, "He's important to me!"

"To me as well!"

"Oh  _screw you_!"

Coran clicked his tongs loudly, "Knock it off!"

Lance and Shiro kept their eyes locked in a stand-off. Lance's chest was heavy and his eyes stung. He had already lost his family, no,  _killed_ his  _own_ family. He wasn't letting someone so special to him be killed protecting him. He wouldn't back down until he could  _feel_ Keith call him 'Princess' again.

The two stared at each other for a long time, pushing out heavy breaths. Finally, Shiro's arm muscles bulged with tension and he dropped into his chair, "Fine!"

Lance relaxed and sighed in relief. Shiro scared him more than anyone, and standing up to him like that was nerve-wracking. But  _winning_  the argument felt amazing.

Shiro pointed an angry finger at him, jabbing it with every emphasized word, "But  _you_ will listen to  _my_ rules! I'm not going to lose any more men for you!"

Lance stabbed his steak with his fork, flashing a smirk, "Whatever you say, asshole."


	11. The Lovely Memories

Lance pulled the blankets tighter around his body. The moonlight shone through the large window in front of the couch, casting a dim blue onto Keith's skin. With his back leaning against the armrest and his cheek on the back cushion, Lance watched Keith's chest rise, bringing his crossed arms with it. His head rested back as he sat in sleep.

It was rare for Lance to see Keith that vulnerable. He always waited for him to sleep first. It brought a light smile to his face, because that meant he trusted him. The apartment felt calm and still with the night sky. Lance took a deep breath to stretch his lungs, then closed his eyes softly and started to sing.

_Step one: wake up_   
_Now open your eyes_   
_Now float to the window_   
_Open the blinds_   
_Now never mind_

_The cold shiver on your overexposed spine_   
_Still lying on the bed where you left it,_   
_Soaking up the sleep from the mattress._

Keith's chest resonated with a gentle chuckle. Lance opened his eyes to look at him, raising his head off the cushion. He was staring at the ceiling, a curious smile on his face.

"What," Lance whispered, hand fiddling with the bird-freckled blanket.

He tilted his head to look at him, his grey-purple eyes glowing in the light. His hand gently stroked Lance's calf, "That song makes no sense."

The corners of Lance's mouth curved upward and he returned his head to the couch, closing his eyes. "That's what makes it pretty."

"We're here." Shiro clicked the car into park and removed the keys.

Lance opened his door and stepped into the sunset air. Tightening his grip on the gun, he slammed the car door and joined the group as they headed up the road to the Galra hideout. Gravel crunched beneath their boots and Lance adjusted his mask to allow for easier breathing.

When they reached the back entrance, they crouched against the rusted, wavy metal wall. They only had a small window of time to enter before the guards found them. Coran scooted around to pick the lock. Lance kept looking from side to side, his heart pounding on his ribcage and climbing up his throat.

"Are you trying to make me stare at your ass?" The coffee mug knocked the table as Keith set it down.

Lance turned away from the pancakes on the stove, swinging his hips. His pink shorts barely reached his thighs and his grey sweater hung off his wrists. He smirked, tilting the spatula in his hand, "What if I said yes?"

"You cheeky bastard," Keith said, shaking his head. He stood up and leaned his head toward Lance's ear, "If you continue your attempts at seducing me, I'm gonna do  _this."_

Lance yelped as Keith pinched his ass. He turned and smacked his shoulder with the buttery spatula as he retreated with a laugh. "You little perv!" He tried to sound angry, but his mouth smiled wide, showing his teeth as he giggled.

The lock clicked and Coran opened the door. He motioned for them to enter as he kept lookout. Lance quickly found cover behind a large silver case when he stepped inside. Shiro kept him close, scanning the hallway. Lance tried to control his breathing and calm his sweaty gloved hands, waiting for Shiro's silent orders. Lance's jumpy eyes watched Coran retreat to the woods as the door shut behind them.

Shiro tapped his shoulder and motioned to follow. Lance complied and stayed on his back, hands clasped on his gun and eyes scanning every inch of the area. The light was dim and greenish, giving off a dark aura. The yellow hues in it made Shiro's vest and hair give off a faint glow. Everything in the building had a deep shadow.

Shiro swiftly pointed his barrel down each side of the crossroad, then turned right. They continued down the damp halls, passing multiple doors. A few casted a line of yellow across the soles of their shoes, but most of them were dark. Shiro suddenly stopped with a hand up ordering Lance. His eyes darted around as he listened. Then, after a moment, they jumped left, hastily finding shelter behind a pile of bags and coats. Lance's cheeks were damp with sweat from the mask, making it harder to keep his breaths quiet. Lance's stomach churned as he heard footsteps tap the concrete floor.

Lance rubbed his tired eyes as he sat up on the couch. A faint whine sounded from the wall- the culprit of the sudden wake-up. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion as his eyes adjusted to the dark. After a moment of silence he almost lied back down, but the noise triggered again. Lance stood with a sigh and looked around the apartment to find the source. Across from Keith's room was a bathroom, and a small ray of light spilled into the tiny hallway. Lance hesitated, but gave in to his curiosity. His bare feet pattered on the cold hardwood as he approached the sound. He pushed on the cracked door with his fingertips, opening it slowly.

Keith's back was leaned against the tub. He wore his black sweatpants and his white shirt was piled on the floor next to him. A hand clutched his bare, convulsing chest and his wobbly legs were bent, heels digging into the tile. He looked up at Lance with wide eyes and an open mouth as he gasped for breaths.

Lance sighed and crossed his arms, leaning against the doorframe. After watching the scared boy, he knelt down to sit cross legged on the bathroom floor. Leaning forward, he stared into Keith's sweaty face, "You're broken too."

It took a few tries for Keith to find his shaky voice, "I'll be fine, please leave."

Lance lowered his eyes to Keith's chest and reached for his clenched hand. Locking their fingers together, he pulled it to him. With his other arm, he slid himself between Keith's legs, letting them relax on his knees. The back of his fingers stroked Keith's hand in a calming motion, "I'm not gonna leave you like this."

After the heavy footsteps passed them, Shiro leaned over to Lance. Pointing to a metal door with a square window, he whispered, "That's where they're holding him."

Lance tried to jump up, but Shiro's hand shoved him down. He motioned for Lance to follow as he inched forward. Before he could cross the hallway, a man's scream made them stop in their tracks. Shiro quickly turned back to Lance and squeezed his shoulder, digging his fingers into his collarbone, " _Do what I say."_

Lance's chest ached with dread, but he gave him a nod. Shiro returned one, then turned back to scan the hallways. As they crossed over, the sound of grinding metal and screaming could be heard through the walls. Shiro grasped the door handle and silently opened it. The sounds amplified without the barrier, bringing tears to Lance's eyes. They entered the room and found shelter behind a few boxes. The space was set up like a makeshift theatre. Shiro and Lance were hidden on the metal catwalk that wrapped around the walls. Dirty railing boxed them in, displaying a gruesome scene below.

Lance had to mentally prepare for the sight. The foul smell of iron and rotten metal permeated the humid air. Another heart wrenching shriek pierced his ears, causing him to flinch. Antagonizing voices yelled over him, toying with his mind.

Shiro nudged Lance's shoulder. His frightening eyes were full of annoyance and anger, "Pull yourself together!"

Lance's face scrunched up in agony as he shook his head. Tears wormed their way into the leather of his mask.  _I can't do it!_   _I can't look!_

He leaned his face close to Lance's ear. "You chose to come, you little fucker. Deal with it. Let's go."

Lance took in a sharp breath and blinked away the tears. Shiro was right. The two shared a mutual nod, then army crawled to the edge of the platform. Lance thought he was ready, but nothing could have prepared him for the agonizing scene below.


	12. The Torture

Blood spilled from Keith's mouth and down his neck as he screamed in agony. He sat in a rusty metal chair, wrists and ankles bound with old chains that clinked every time he struggled. Spotlights shined down on him, displaying every gory detail of his torture. Various tools and stains littered the concrete floor.

A shiny silver cart clattered with tools, catching Lance's attention. A larger, grungy man with a scraggly beard yanked a hammer from it, causing the other metals to shift.

Keith's head hung down as he winced in pain. His hair was oily and matted with dirt and dried blood. His black shirt was torn, showing off deep wounds of red and brown. His gloves and shoes had been removed and Lance's chest sunk when he noticed the condition of his hands and feet. Most of his toes were bloody and purple, broken or hanging by veins. His hands were littered with burn scars as if they had been fried. He writhed in his chair, shifting from side to side.

The man flipped the hammer in the air, "Where's the boy?!" His voice was low and hysterical.

Keith's chest bounced. Lance thought he was crying until he lifted his bloody and bruised face to reveal a sinister smile. He let out a chuckle, leaning against the back of the chair. Then, he launched his chest forward to spit blood in the man's face.

The man wiped his eyes with his sleeve, then reached into a pocket of his dirty apron. After a few seconds of jingling, he pulled out a long silver nail. Keith's hands rested on a new plank of wood, and he closed his fists in rebellion. The man pulled open Keith's hands with little difficulty and spread his fingers. Keith gritted his teeth and whimpered in panic as a cloth was tied around the back of his hand, securing his palm to the wood.

The man lined up a nail over Keith's middle finger and shouted in his face, spit shooting off his teeth, "Where's the boy?!"

"Fuck you!" Keith yelled back without hesitation.

Lance's mouth dropped as the hammer was swung into the air, crashing down on the nail. Keith threw his head back and let out a violent scream as his finger was attached to the wood. A bloody tear fell down the side of his face as his voice caught in his throat. He gritted his teeth and breathed through them angrily as he glared at his psychotic tormentor.

Lance looked away to cry. It pained his heart to think about how long Keith had endured this torture. Shiro shoved Lance's shoulder and shot him a look of annoyance, then turned to scan the room. What was he supposed to do? He couldn't help him. He was right there, but Lance couldn't stop his pain.

Another nail was driven through Keith's pinky, securing it to the blood-filled board. Every time he wailed, the weight on Lance's shoulders doubled. What scared him the most was the fact that even Shiro didn't know what the hell to do.

Being distracted by Keith's pain, Lance had failed to notice his own surroundings. The faint smell of smoke wafted at his nose. He scrunched his eyebrows together and spoke through his mask, "Shiro?"

He ignored him, continuing his search.

Lance unhooked the buttons of his mask, pulling it off his face. He tapped his arm, "Shiro."

"What?" He finally noticed him and eyed the mask on the ground.

Lance sniffed and motioned to the air. Shiro stopped and his face dropped in realization, "Shit!"

Lance looked back down to check on Keith. The nails had been removed, leaving a bloody mess of three fingers on both hands. He had his head back and his chest jerked as he sniffed the air. It seemed that everyone had noticed the strange smoke filling the room.

Keith's scraggly tormentor tossed his tools down and headed toward the door, leaving Keith alone. As soon as the door shut, Keith yanked on his chains. Lance looked to Shiro, expecting him to help, but he didn't. Keith managed to wiggle his hands out of the chains and pulled something from his hair, moving to his feet. Lance was constantly reminded of the array of skills Keith possessed, and was pleasantly surprised every time. Wrapping his mask around his jaw, Lance stood up with Shiro.

Keith hopped down from the chair, stumbling from the pain in his mutilated toes and wincing at his fingers. Lance's boots hit the metal railing, causing a ring to echo in the room. The sound caught Keith's attention and he searched for the source. Finally, he glanced up and locked eyes with Lance. His face was dripping with blood and splattered with bruises. Tears fell down his cheeks from the pain, but he smiled in relief and tapped his right cheek with a crushed finger.

His voice was shaky with pain but full of hope as he called up to Lance, "What are you doing here, Princess?"

The familiar nickname filled Lance's chest with warmth. He wanted to respond, but was cut off by the sudden bang of the metal door. Keith spun around and squared up as he faced the sound.

"What are you doing out of your chair?!"


	13. The Shot

The man may have been great at torture, but he wasn't great at fighting. Keith dodged every attempt at a punch, landing kicks to his abdomen.

Lance grabbed the railing and leaned over, "Keith!"

Leaning too hard on a broken bone caused Keith to stumble. The man grabbed his ankle, yanking it to make him fall. Keith rolled over and clawed at the bloody concrete. His nails scraped the ground as he was dragged back to the man. His eyes locked with Lance's as his stomach was pinned to the ground, "Run!" A cloth was forced into his mouth, pulling his head back.

"Keith! I lo-"

Shiro yanked Lance's arm back, "No time!"

He reluctantly tore his eyes away from the struggling Keith and followed Shiro out the door. Flames of red and gold licked the walls, filling the area with black smoke. Ducked behind a crate, Shiro fired at the soldiers behind them. Bullets zipped through the air and sparked the metal walls. He turned to Lance, "Come on!"

They stayed low and sprinted down the maze of smoke-filled hallways. Various soldiers ran through the building, gathering supplies or searching for an exit. Some didn't even notice Shiro and Lance.

A distant voice made him stop in his tracks, "Lance!"

He spun around, searching for the source, "Keith!"

"Lance!"

 _There_. Lance took off, weaving through the rusty walls. As he ran, he clawed his mask off and stuffed it into his pocket. "Keith!"

Lance passed a hallway with rapid gunfire. He stopped and turned around to enter. Two Galra members were shooting at a small box at the end of a short hallway. Two large iron doors stood on either side. They were too focused on their target, that they hadn't noticed Lance. He took shelter behind the metal. If he didn't think this through, he would die easily. He had to be witty and unexpected. If there was one thing Lance excelled at, it was getting enemies to touch his face.

He took a peek around the corner. The soldier on the right was standing, and the one on the left was crouched down. Lance took a deep breath to calm down then dropped his gun and launched his body forward, sliding on his left thigh. When he reached the standing man, he leaned onto his back and kicked his legs into the bottom of his gun. Then he jumped up and grabbed his arm, pushing the elbow in and bringing his hand to Lance's cheek. He let go when the other man shot a bullet through his left calf. He fell to one knee and swung his wounded leg up to kick the gun from his hand. The man lunged for it and Lance snatched his arm, rolling onto it and touching it to his cheek. Lance limped as he lifted his body off the ground. A pool of blood soaked into his pants. Another pile clung to his shoes, streaming from the mutilated heads of the Galra.

"Well, I'll be damned."

Lance whipped his head around to find a rough Keith standing at the end of the hall. He nodded slowly, a smile on his face, "You were serious."

"Of course I was." Lance's face softened, gazing into his purple eyes.

A loud boom shook the building, spilling more flames and sparks into the halls. Lance had fallen in the quake due to his leg.

Keith grunted and yelled, "Let go of me!"

Lance searched through the flames. Keith was being thrown around by a much larger, muscular man with crazy dark grey hair.

He lifted his body with a tired arm, "Kei-" the flimsy ground beneath him gave out with a rumble, dropping him on a floor of rough, cold concrete. His shoulder ached at the blow and he rubbed the pain away with his other hand. The upper floor wasn't that far away, only about seven feet. Lance pushed himself up to stand. "Keith!"

The strange man that tackled Keith appeared on the edge, holding him by his matted hair. Every move Keith made resulted in a violent tug. His sunken black eyes pleaded with Lance, "Run! Go Now!"

A booming voice sounded from the man, "Is this what you're after?" He shoved Keith's head as he asked.

Lance didn't respond, keeping a furious stare on him.

He smiled, "I know what you are, Hellhound." Keith yelped as he yanked on his head. "You've killed a lot of my men."

Lance's chest burned as hot as the fire surrounding him. He had been so close to saving Keith many times, but this time was going to work. He didn't know how, but he would get him back. Lance mentally facepalmed when he remembered that he left Shiro behind. It would've been useful to have him there.

"I don't like having my men killed," he continued. His eyebrows jumped as he took a couple steps, dragging the struggling Keith with him. "I  _was_ going to kill you. But..." His mouth pouted in dramatic thought, "I want you to suffer first."

Lance held an extreme hatred for his condescending eyes. For his violent attitude. For torturing Keith. " _Give him back!_ " Lance's eyes were scrunched up in rage and his teeth were smashed together.

He pulled on Keith's hair once more with a smirk, "This?"

Lance's heart fell to his stomach as the man pulled out a large pistol and jabbed it into Keith's waist. Keith let out a painful yell as a bullet tore through his stomach. Blood splattered on the torn metal, falling like the tears on Lance's cheeks. Keith went pale as he was dropped off the ledge, limply hitting the rough concrete.

Lance clawed through the smoky air and dropped to Keith's side. He whimpered a pitiful 'no' as he pulled the frail body into his lap. Cradling his dirty hair, Lance shot an evil glare at the man, who laughed deeply and retreated into the flames. Keith's chest convulsed as he coughed up blood.

Lance held his cheek and panicked, "Keith? Keith, are you alright?"

Keith's breathing shallowed as he stretched his cut lips into a smile, "Lance..." he drifted off for a second, then jumped back with a wheeze. "Lance," his voice was practically a whisper, "I'm not gonna make it out of here. You need to leave while you still can."

The tears from Lance's eyes dropped onto Keith's bruised cheeks, collecting blood as they fell. "I'm not gonna leave you again. We-we can just-" he fiddled around, "We can just leave together and-and get you all fixed up, yeah?"

Keith sucked air through his teeth in pain, scrunching up his face. Lance stopped moving to ease his pain. "Lance...just go. It's over."

"No!"

"Yes." His eyes fell to the blood on Lance's calf. He looked back to his eyes, "Your leg is fucked up, but you can still be saved."

"Stop!" He shook his head violently, tears streaming down his face.

"It's too late for me. You can still go. This building is coming down." He motioned to the fire with his eyes.

Lance's throat hitched as he sobbed loudly. He stroked Keith's cheek with his thumb, praying that someone would find them. He turned to the room, "Shiro! Someone! Help!" His voice broke as it quieted, "Please!" He turned back to Keith and tried to return the blood to his stomach, "I'm okay, you're okay, we're gonna get out. Just breathe."

"Lance-" Keith threw up more blood with violent coughs. He held on to Lance's vest as he continued, "Can I ask for just one thing?"

Lance's throat was shut so he closed his eyes and nodded. His stomach was scrambled and his chest was crushed.

Keith gave him a warm smile. The corners of his mouth leaked blood and saliva. He licked his lips and gave him a desperate look. "Kiss me."

Lance's eyes widened in sorrow. He shook his head violently, "No! We can get out of here!" He flinched as a beam fell from the ceiling, giving off a cloud of sparks.

Keith raised his hand toward Lance's cheek, hovering over it. "That is my last request."

Lance let out a sorrowful whine and squeezed out more tears, the corners of his mouth pulling back. He opened his eyes and let out strained breaths. With a small nod, he admired Keith's deep purple eyes. "This is all my fault."

Keith gently closed his eyes and shook his head. Opening them, he smiled calmly, "You mean everything to me."

Lance took a few quick breaths to prepare himself, watching the dark blood pour out of Keith's stomach. Then, he slowly leaned down. Keith placed his hand on Lance's cheek and pulled him into a kiss. Lance could feel the cuts on his lips and his mouth held a strong taste of iron. Lance pulled back with a weak sob, leaning their foreheads together. His eyes shook as Keith's smile faded along with his consciousness.


	14. The Child Of Life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song that Lance sings throughout this book is called Milk by Sea Oleena. On Wattpad, I linked it to the chapter, but I encourage you guys to listen to it while reading.

Lance maneuvered his way through the collapsing building with the limp Keith in his arms. With tears covering his face, he fell out of the exit to a worried Coran and Shiro.

Shiro ran toward him with a smile, "Lance! You found him!"

Lance clutched Keith's body as he sat on his knees in the thick mud, pushing him into his chest. He barked at Shiro to stay back, which he did. The men stared at Lance with curious eyes that quickly filled with sorrowful realization. Lance's sobs filled the night air along with the thick smoke. The heat from the fire grazed his back, casting a red glow onto his shirt.

Coran let out an 'oh no' and covered his face with his hands.

Shiro's head dropped and he pounded his fists on the hood of the car.

Lance's breathing sputtered out of his chest through his tears. He snuck a look at Keith's empty face. The warmth of his skin had faded and his muscles held no strength. Pulling him back into his chest, Lance started to rock as he cried. This couldn't be happening. Surely they had made it out. This had to be a dream. Keith couldn't be dead. He was alive a few minutes ago. Lance looked back down at him and stroked his cheeks while he rocked him. He just had to hold him until he woke up.  _He will come back._ Lance's voice was wobbly throughout his lullaby, making it more somber than it already was.

_Thick-skinned chameleon climbs the curtains hanging on the wall,_   
_The only living ghost to grace the hall._

_Meanwhile on the battlefield,_   
_Another soldier boldly bites his tongue_

Lance's voice broke with the next line, and a tear fell onto Keith's cheek.

_The only noble thing he's ever done._

Crunching footsteps made their way to Lance's side. "Lance..." Coran tried to keep him voice calm, but Lance could tell that he was just as upset as the rest of them. "Lance, let's get you up."

"No," Lance spat, hugging Keith tighter.

Coran sighed and knelt down, "Lance, he's- Lance, he's gone."

"No!" Lance took in a wobbly breath and looked at the bloody mess of his stomach. "He's not dead! He can't be dead!"

Coran placed his hand on Lance's shoulder, but it was quickly shaken off. "Lance, we need to go. Let me see him."

Lance let out a heart-wrenching cry and tilted his head back to stare at the stars. Tears glided down his neck and he brought his forehead to Keith's. He kissed him again and again, resting their cheeks together. "I  _love_ him." He choked out more of his song.

_Thick-skinned chameleon_   
_Open your eyes_   
_Now hanging on_   
_The only living ghost to grace the hall_

_Meanwhile on the battlefield_   
_Another soldier still lying on the bed_   
_Soaking up the sleep from_   
_The only noble ghost to grace the hall_

A small voice spoke in Lance's ear, barely audible. "I don't get that song."

Lance's cries hitched and he pulled away from Keith, staring at his face. Keith's eyes are half opened and his chest slowly gained a normal rhythm. His mouth was pulled into a warm smile.

Lance looked up to Coran and Shiro, making sure he wasn't crazy. Both of them stared at the body with surprise. Keith brought his shaky hands up to hold Lance's cheeks. They shared a look of disbelief as Keith wiped the tears from his face, his eyes opening fully as they adjusted to the light. Lance jerked his head toward Keith's stomach and pulled his shirt up to inspect his abdomen. No wounds. A lot of dried blood, but no bullet holes. No anything. All the bruises and cuts he had disappeared. His broken toes were mended and the nail holes in his fingers were closed. Even Lance's own bullet wound was healed.

Keith wiggled his hand under Lance's, bringing their fingertips together, then intertwining. Other than the dried blood and dirt, Keith's face was clear and he breathed normally.

Lance stared in disbelief, "Please tell me this isn't a dream."

Keith chuckled and pulled Lance's head down with both hands to kiss him. Lance wrapped his arms around Keith's neck as he was pulled to the ground. The two lied in the cold mud as they embraced. Their tears mixed as they laughed in relief. Keith opened his eyes to look over Lance's shoulder. Lance sat up, climbing off his stomach. Shiro pulled Keith up into a hug, patting his back. Coran placed a hand on his shoulder and Keith gave him a smile and a nod.

Breaking off the hug, Keith jumped back to Lance, knocking him down. He laughed and nuzzled their cheeks together. He pulled back and held his face in his hands. A wide smile spread across his face and his eyes sparkled, "I can touch you." He roughly brushed Lance's hair off his cheeks, "I can touch you!"

Shiro laughed at the crazy scene, "Alright, no fucking in the mud! Let's go home."

In the backseat of the car, Keith and Lance spent the entire ride making out or happily nuzzling their cheeks together. When they got to Shiro's house, everyone got cleaned up. Keith refused to let go of Lance as he ate, so they curled up on the couch. After every bite of his sandwich, Keith would rub his nose into Lance's head. Lance would let him do it as he rested his ear on his chest, listening to Keith's strong breathing. Shiro decided to stay at Coran's house that night, leaving the two boys alone.

Lance's fingertips grazed over Keith's unblemished shoulder. Lance fell in love with Keith's jet black silken hair that licked his neck. With his pure skin that glowed in the starlight. With his unique eyes that held all of his bottled-up emotions. Keith ran his hands over Lance's bare chest, raising them to thread into his brown hair. Every heated kiss they shared generated a spark of energy that ran through their veins. It gave them endurance and strength. It restored their stamina and healed their wounds.

A chill shook Lance's spine as Keith's hand stroked his back and thighs. Keith's teeth nipped at the nape of his neck as Lance cried out. Their bodies linked together perfectly, each one made specifically for the other. Soulmates. That's what Keith taught him. The Son of Death and the Child of Life. Yin and Yang.

Keith was gentle with him. Lance had never been with anyone. It wasn't possible before. Lance was treated like a precious jewel. Keith's biceps stuck out, bracing the back of Lance's knees as he bounced. Lance's nails cut into his back as moans and wet sounds filled the moonlight. It was the longest, most mind-blowing night of their lives.

Sunlight kissed Lance's sleepy eyes, waking him from his gentle sleep. The sheets next to him were empty, bringing slight confusion to his cloudy head. He snatched Keith's oversized sweater from the carpet and searched the house. An amused smile tickled his face when he stopped in the kitchen, locating his partner with crossed arms.

Keith sat in the dull grass, basking in the sun like a cat. His shiny black hair was up in an attractive ponytail and his face was relaxed, eyes closed and lips slightly parted. Lance pulled open the sliding glass door and joined him on the ground, pulling the sweater under him as he sat down. Keith welcomed him with a kiss on his temple and an arm around his waist. Lance rested his head on Keith's shoulder and shut his eyes.

"How do you feel?" Keith nuzzled his cheek into Lance's hair.

A smile warmed his cheeks, "Like I died and went to heaven."

"Is that a good thing?"

He chuckled, "Yes, it's a great thing."

"Hmm." Keith paused for a second in hesitation.

Lance opened his eyes to look out at the variety of trees. The valley below housed a forest of reds and browns and yellows. "We aren't safe yet."

Keith's gaze stayed forward and his fingers picked at the grass. "No we aren't," he huffed.

They both raised their heads and looked to each other. Keith brought a hand up to stroke his cheek, staring into Lance's blue eyes that he worshipped so much.

Lance brought a gentle hand up to Keith's and leaned into the touch with a sweet smile and closed eyes. "We will fight them together." His eyes opened, gazing through his eyelashes, "As a team."

Keith pulled him into a soft kiss, then nuzzled their cheeks together. "As a team," he agreed.  
  


♪（ｖ＾＿＾）ｖｖ（＾＿＾ｖ）♪

Thank you for reading!! I'm glad you enjoyed! ( ◠‿◠ )

**This story is continued in the next book!**


	15. Preview: The Color Of Life Is Red

Lance sat in the comfy lounge chair and gazed up at the stars. They shimmered through the clouds, winking down to him. The cool summer night air stroked his face and walked along the large deck. His eyes lowered to the glittering pool in front of him. It gave off a blue aura onto the white of the rooftop. A smirk crept onto Lance's face as he sat up and removed his clothes. When he was stripped down to his boxers, a voice sounded from behind him.

"I'm liking the new look," Keith strut over to him with champagne in both hands. He held a glass out for Lance, "For you, my love."

Lance took it with a blushing smile, "Why thank you, my love." He took a small sip, then set it on the small table to his right.

Keith took a seat in the chair next to him, drinking from his own as he watched him stand. Lance's feet pattered the rooftop tile as he danced toward the pool. Taking a cheeky look over his shoulder, he slowly pulled down his underwear. He fluffed his hair with a sexy head shake and took dramatic steps into the cool water, swinging his hips. He turned around to face Keith and let his body fall back, keeping his head above the water.

Keith leaned his elbow on the table next to him as he sipped his champagne, staring at Lance intently. Lance licked his lips and swam to the edge, crossing his arms onto the tile. He leaned his head down and batted his eyelashes, "You wanna join?"

Keith shot him a seductive smile, then stood to strip. As he hopped in, Lance drifted back.

Keith reached for him with a chuckle, "Come here."

Lance shot him a playful smirk then dipped his head under. He kicked through the water, moving away from him. With a breath, he brushed back his wet hair and wiped him eyes. Two arms suddenly wrapped around his waist, lifting him up with a laugh. "Keith! Put me down!"

Keith returned him to water and spun his hips to face him. Lance rested his arms around his neck and gazed into his dark purple eyes. With a giggle, he pulled him into a heated kiss. Keith's hands felt around Lance's thighs, pulling them around him. Lance's back hit the wall of the pool and something brushed against his shoulder. He pulled away from Keith to stare at the bloody arm hanging over the edge.

He pouted and leaned onto Keith's chest, "Ah, he ruined it."

Keith's chest resonated with a laugh, "Oh well. Let's head back and continue this at home, yeah?"

He picked his chest up to kiss Keith's nose, then returned to his position with a cute smile. "Okay."

Lance's eyes scanned the tile roof as Keith carried him out of the water. Bodies from the party were littered across the ground, some draped over lounge chairs or resting on shards of broken glass. Every hand seemed to clutch a glass bottle or red cup. Blood splattered the area, pooling around the once sparkling floor and permeating the air. A stream of red dropped into the clear water, slowly turning it a shade of faded pink.

With a happy sigh, Lance closed his eyes to relax.


End file.
